


Howard Family Thanksgiving

by notvelma



Series: Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notvelma/pseuds/notvelma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving with the Howards is always an event, and this year is no different. If Hank can keep Nick and Tommy from killing each other, he'll consider it a success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howard Family Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this is all over the place. This is really a story in a loose sense, and it's more meant to tie things together.
> 
> Was not beta-read as I don't have a beta.

It was Thanksgiving Day and Hank's nerves were on edge as he thought about the family dinner they would have to attend at Nick's house later. He was trying to calm himself by focusing on the pies he'd promised to make, but it was difficult. When Tommy came up behind him and put his cold hand on the back of Hank's neck, Hank nearly dropped the glass pan he'd been holding.

"Jesus, you're jumpy," said Tommy into his ear, his voice low and husky. "Maybe you need a little something to calm your nerves." He slipped a hand around front to cup Hank through his sweatpants, moving his mouth to suck on Hank's earlobe. His entire body was pressed up against Hank's.

Hank wriggled out of Tommy's grip and set the dish on the counter before turning around to face his older brother; Tommy was still a bit too close but at least Hank could focus better if they weren't touching. "Please, can you just let me finish baking?" he asked, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. Tommy had barely touched him, but Hank's body had a hard time saying no. "Nick wants us there by three, and I have to finish this apple pie and then take a shower and change into clean clothes before we go. I don't have time for –" He kind of waved his hand around, not even sure how to finish that sentence.

Leering, Tommy said, "Fine, but I'm not done with you today." He watched Hank with a steady gaze. "If I gotta put up with that snotty asshole and his stupid family through that whole dinner, then you better have something for me when we get home. And I don't mean pie." His voice was low but firm.

"I don't owe you shit," snapped Hank. "Now go take a shower and let me finish cooking." He kept his own tone of voice sharp, hoping that Tommy didn't realize the reaction his words had caused. He probably already knew that Hank was his, that Hank would do what he wanted him to when it came down to it. The idea that Tommy could have that much control over him scared Hank a little, but it turned him on, too – and that thought was even more frightening.

After a long moment, Tommy finally left to go shower, and Hank got back to work. Though he was still nervous at the prospect of dinner at Nick's, where his eldest brother would no doubt do his best to make Hank feel about two inches tall, the act of mixing the ingredients and rolling out the pie dough was relaxing. He liked getting flour on his hands and clothes, liked pressing the dough into the pan to make his crust, and liked watching it all come together. Most of all, though, he loved the scent that filled the house as the pie began to bake. It was almost enough for Hank to completely forget just why he was baking the pie in the first place.

When the pie was done and Hank was showered and dressed and ready to leave, he found Tommy lounging on the living room couch with a beer in his hand. He was happy to see that Tommy had taken his advice and gotten showered and put on clean clothes as well; he'd even combed his hair. "You ready to go? We should probably leave now before Nick calls to nag and ask us when we're coming."

Nodding, Tommy hauled himself up off the couch and right away Hank saw how unsteady Tommy's feet were; that beer was clearly not his first. 

"How much have you had to drink? Jesus, it's only been like an hour!" Then Hank's eyes caught on the six-pack beside the couch; there were only two bottles left unopened in it. Sighing, he decided not to say anything. It was that was what Tommy needed to get through the dinner, then so be it. Hank just hoped that everything would go fairly smoothly and that there wouldn't be any fighting. The last thing they needed at Thanksgiving was for somebody to end up with broken bones.

*

When they arrived at Nick's house, Hank had to calm himself down with several deep breaths as they sat in the car in the driveway. "It's just a couple hours," he said, mostly to himself. "We can do this." He glanced over to the passenger seat to find Tommy staring at him.

"How about I give you a hummer?" offered Tommy, licking his lips. "Might help you relax." 

The grunt from Hank's mouth was out of frustration and not because he was considering Tommy's suggestion at all. "You're not blowing me in the car while we sit in Nick's driveway," he said. "Jesus, Tommy, that's just asking for trouble." 

Leaning across the center console, Tommy put his hand on the crotch of Hank's khakis, squeezing. "But you like trouble, don't you?" His tone was just this side of dangerous and made Hank fight to keep his composure. "You like danger, baby brother, and don't think I don't know that."

He wanted to give in, to let Tommy take control and rough him up. He wanted Nick to walk out and catch them in the middle of it. He wanted Tommy to take him home and rib his clothes off and fuck him in the front hall of the house, both of them so overtaken with lust that they wouldn't even bother trying to make it to the bedroom. He wanted everything.

Instead, he moved Tommy's hand away from his crotch. "We're not talking about this right now," he said evenly. "We're going to go inside and have dinner with the family, and you're not going to make a scene in front of Jen's new boyfriend, okay?" he suggested. 'New' boyfriend was a bit of a stretch; Jen had been seeing him for almost a year now. Still, Hank hadn't yet been properly introduced to him, so 'new' still applied in this case. 

"I'll be a good boy," promised Tommy. "But we're leaving after dessert." He opened the passenger door and got out, leaving Hank with no choice but to follow him up the driveway. 

Tristan, Nick's nine year old son, answered the door and let them both in before he launched himself at Hank. "Uncle Hank, I missed you!" He was a small kid, and it was no trouble for Hank to hoist him up into a big bear hug, which made the boy giggle as he wrapped his arms around Hank's neck.

"You don't feel very heavy," teased Hank. "Are you sure you've been eating your vegetables?" he asked. "You've gotta eat your veggies if you want to get as big as me and Uncle Tommy."

"I always eat my vegetables," replied Tristan with a serious face. "Except for mushrooms, though, because Danny told me they were fungus and I don't want to eat fungus." He wrinkled his nose.

Next to Hank, Tommy was leaning on the doorway with one hand, the scent of liquor on his breath becoming hard to ignore; surely the kid noticed the smell. 

"Hey, Tommy, why don't you go get the pies from the car and bring them into the kitchen so we can keep them warm?" Hank suggested. Probably it wasn't the greatest idea to send the drunk guy out to carry a glass dish, but Hank knew he needed to give Tommy something to do before he said something rude or inappropriate in front of the kid. 

While Tommy went back outside, Hank finally put Tristan down. "So, little man, is your mom around here somewhere?" Rita was much easier to get along with than her husband, and if Hank had a choice, he'd much rather talk with her all evening instead of Nick. Of course, he didn't have that choice to make, not today. Nick was his brother, and Hank would have to put up with him, at least for this meal.

"Mommy's in the living room with Aunt Jenny and Jenny's boyfriend," said Tristan, lowering his voice at that last word. "He has a motorcycle," Tristan whispered. "And I think he's almost as big as you are, Uncle Hank!" His eyes got wide and then he said, "Hey! I think we should measure and see! Come on!" He grabbed Hank's hand to drag him into the living room.

In the other room, they found Rita sitting in one of the arm chairs while Jen and her boyfriend – a big tattooed guy that definitely looked like the motorcycle type – were on the couch. Jen had her hands on the guy's back and he was leaning into her like they couldn't bear to be separated. 

Hank wanted to be jealous but found he couldn't, not with the way those two looked at each other, the way they seemed so comfortable together. He was slightly envious, but for the most part, he was just happy that Jen seemed to be happy. 

Just as he was getting ready to sit down in the chair next to Rita, Tristan grabbed his hand.

"No, don't sit down, Uncle Hank! We have to measure you and Evan!" he said excitedly. "Now stand right here and don't move." He looked up at Hank with a stern expression.

To tease the kid, Hank picked up his foot like he was going to step forward, but when Tristan glared at him, Hank put it back. "Sorry, sir. I won't disobey your orders again." He saluted.

"You better not," mumbled Tristan. He turned to the couch, but Jen's boyfriend was already on his feet with a little smile on his face. "At least somebody listens to me," said Tristan, glancing over at Hank with a scowl. 

It took all Hank's energy not to laugh at how serious Tristan was taking this whole thing, but when Jen's boyfriend shot a raised-eyebrow look at Hank, both of them snickered. The women were also watching with amusement, but Tristan seemed determined to ignore them. 

"Now you have to stand back to back," said Tristan, and when they didn't move right away he added in a whine, "Come on! You have to do it!" He stomped his foot, frustrated. 

"Tristan!" snapped Rita in her teacher voice, "You watch how you speak to your elders. If you're going to be rude, you can go sit down in your room until dinner is ready." She was so stern with him that for a moment, Hank felt the pain for him. 

"Sorry, Mom," he said, eyes downcast. "I just wanna see who is bigger, okay? Please?" 

Hank had to clap his hand over his mouth to prevent the laughter at what his nephew had said. He was sure that Tristan didn't realize the double meaning of his words, but judging by the surprised look on Rita's face and the way Jen's eyes got wide, both women clearly got the same entendre Hank had. 

"Well, what do you think?" said Jen's boyfriend, looking over at Hank. "Want to see how you measure up?" he asked, smirking.

"You have to stand back to back," reminded Tristan, and then at the look from his mother he added, "Please can you stand back to back so I can see who is taller?" He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at both of them with barely concealed impatience. 

To make Tristan happy, Hank turned so his back was facing that of Jen's boyfriend and waited for Tristan to do the measuring. He saw Tommy standing in the doorway, his hand resting on the doorframe again; clearly that was all that was holding him up. 

It might have just been Hank's imagination but he could've sworn Tommy was smoldering at him. His body went hot at the sight and he hoped that nobody else noticed. God, what would he say if they saw the way his brother was looking at him? He didn't want to have to answer those questions, but suddenly he became frightened that Tommy, under the guise of his drunkenness, would announce their indiscretions to the rest of the family. What would happen then?

"I can't tell who wins," announced Tristan. "Mommy, which one's bigger? I can't see!" 

Grinning, Rita stood up from the couch. "It's hard to tell Tristan. They're both pretty big." Then she put her hand on top of Hank's head. "But if you look, you can see Uncle Hank is just a little bit taller than Evan. So I guess that means Hank wins." 

She removed her hand and patted Hank on the shoulder.

"But I think Uncle Tommy wins overall," said Jen, nodding her head at where Tommy stood. "He's a lot bigger than both of them." 

At the sound of his name, Tommy let go of the doorframe and entered the room, stumbling only slightly. "We talkin' about me?" he asked. 

Next to Hank, Tristan seemed a little nervous at Tommy's entrance to the room. Hank wouldn't blame the kid for being intimidated by his uncle. Tommy was definitely the scary one in the family, and even discounting his intimidating expressions and everything about him, his size alone was enough to scare a kid of Tristan's age.

"Nothing to worry about," said Hank as Tommy came to stand next to him. He wanted to say something to Tommy about how drunk he looked, but he didn't know what kind of reaction he'd get if he spoke about it in front of everybody else. He didn't want it to turn into an opportunity for everybody to nag Tommy about his drinking. There was no way that could end well for anyone involved.

There was a long moment where they all seemed to be standing around awkwardly and nobody seemed to know what to say, until Rita finally spoke up. "Can I get anybody anything to drink? We've got wine and beer and some sodas." 

"A beer would be great," said Tommy. "Make it two. I'll need the second one to wash down the first." Then he grinned like he thought he was funny, and clapped his hand on Hank's shoulder.

Rita looked to Hank for a moment, but he didn't know what to say; it wasn't as though he had any control over Tommy's alcohol consumption. He just kind of nodded at Rita in response to her unspoken question and added, "If you've got a coke, I'll have that, thank you." Though he wanted something stronger to help him deal with what was sure to come, Hank knew that he had to be the sober, responsible one if he wanted to be able to keep Tommy in check.

*

Half an hour later and dinner still hadn't been served. More out of boredom than anything else, Hank excused himself from the conversation about the customers at Jen's job. He needed some breathing room, so he walked away from the living room and went down the long hallway to the bathroom. He didn't really have to go, but he needed the break and it was really his only choice.

After washing his hands, he exited the bathroom to find Tommy there waiting for him, and he didn't even get a moment to breathe before Tommy pushed him up against the wall by the door.

"You're such a fucking tease," growled Tommy. "The way you look at me, the way you wiggle that fucking ass of yours." His voice was low enough that it was unlikely for them to be heard, but that didn't stop Hank's rough heartbeat, heavy with the fear of being caught.

Hank exhaled as Tommy's knee nudged his legs apart. His fingers were tight on his brother's arm as he tried to focus in spite of the desire coursing through his body. Knowing he had to push Tommy away before they got caught did not make the task any easier, not with that mouth on his neck or those hands gripping his waist. Nothing turned him on quite like Tommy did, and nothing ever would. That very knowledge scared Hank all the way down to his toes. 

"What would you do," whispered Tommy in his ear, "if I were to fuck you right here in the hallway of the house we grew up in? Hmm?" 

And for a moment Hank couldn't think of one single reason to say no. He wanted Tommy inside of him and he didn't even care that the rest of the family was in the next room. Deep down, he didn't really care that they would get caught. He wanted it too much and he knew it was wrong. 

The rational side of Hank just managed to get the rest of his brain together and push Tommy away when he heard a slight gasp. His entire body went cold as he turned his head to see his baby sister Jen standing further down the hall, watching both of them with an open mouth and wide eyes. 

For a moment the three of them just stood there awkwardly. Jen was the first to recover, though, and she said, "Jesus, Tommy, you can't stop fighting for even one day, huh? I mean it's Thanksgiving, after all. You gotta be nice to your brothers." 

It wasn't hard to hear the false note in her voice and Hank wondered if she'd had an idea what was going on between them. How much had she seen? Tommy hadn't exactly been subtle with the way he'd touched Hank, and the fact that Jen had seen that – Hank didn't know what he was going to do or how he was going to explain himself so he said nothing, just pushed Tommy away further.

"I just need to use the bathroom," said Jen, and Hank moved out of the way to let her in. 

There was no doubt they were going to be talking about this later, but the only question would be when Jen would decide to bring it up. He'd never known Jen to be malicious, but now that she'd seen her two brothers in that nearly unmistakable situation, who knew what she would do? He was wary, and he wanted to ask her what she thought she'd seen. Did she recognize what had gone on between them, or was she ignoring the obvious conclusion and making up something much more innocent? 

Upon returning to the living room, Rita informed them that dinner was about ready. Hank wasn't exactly sure that the meal was going to go any better than the rest of the afternoon had so far, but the sooner it was done, the sooner they could go home.

The seating arrangement at the table was a point of argument for a moment. Hank didn't want Nick and Tommy sitting near each other, and Tristan wanted to sit next to his mother and his father and Hank, which was of course impossible. Finally, though, they settled on an arrangement, with Nick and Rita at either end of the table, Jen and Evan on one side, and Hank, Tommy, and Tristan on the other. Hank would have preferred to sit next to Rita so that he could talk with her more, but that would have meant leaving Tommy to sit near Nick, and that would not end well at all. 

He was just thankful there weren't any more family members that they had to work around; that would have make the whole thing turn into one giant cluster-fuck. It was no wonder they didn't get together as a family much anymore. The hassle it created wasn't even worth it. 

After everybody had been served and was all settled in to eat their dinner, the conversations continued as the family tried to catch up on what had happened since their last get together, nearly six months ago. Hank found it hard to focus on anything, so he just concentrated on his food and only really half-listened to the conversations going on around him. 

His attention was only caught when he heard his name and looked up to find Rita watching him from the other end of the table. His first thought went to what Jen had seen earlier, but she was deep in conversation with Nick and was not even aware that Rita was speaking. Hank turned back to Rita, then, to see what she had to say to him. 

When Rita became aware that she'd caught his attention, she spoke. "I heard about that poor boy that got shot while you were there, Hank. They showed that on the news. That must have been very hard on you." She looked concerned in that maternal way that Hank had never gotten used to. The fact that Rita was only two years older than him made it a bit awkward to think of her as anything but a sister. 

There wasn't just one time somebody had been shot while Hank was on duty, but he knew the exact instance Rita was talking about. He remembered having to speak with the reporters on camera, and having to speak with the boy's mother and having to file that report with his captain. The whole event had been painful, and remembering it now hurt him even more. 

Under the table, he felt Tommy's hand reach over and squeeze his knee comfortingly. Tommy had been there when he'd gotten home that night, and Hank remembered asking Tommy for comfort. He remembered the way his brother had been there to hold him and take care of him. He remembered the sex, too, and how Tommy had known exactly what he'd needed. He put his hand over Tommy's.

"It was definitely a rough time," said Hank finally. "But as a police officer, I have to get used to those sorts of moments. It sucks, but shit like that is gonna happen and I do my best to keep it from happening as often as I can." He shrugged. He wanted to say more – to talk about the injustices in the world that led to these kids on the streets, to the pains at home that could have caused them to leave their family for a different life, about everything in the world that was wrong and that needed to be fixed.

But he knew that they weren't interested, that nobody wanted to hear him ranting and raving. So he just laced his fingers with Tommy's under the table, where nobody could see, and picked up his drink with his other hand. He didn't have anything else to say to this conversation. 

Rita was watching him with a strange look on her face.

Once again, Hank's mind shot to what Jen had witnessed earlier, wondering if somehow between then and now, she'd spoken to Rita about it. Surely he would have noticed if that had happened, right? 

But Rita said nothing to him and instead returned to her food. Soon the conversation was back to the details of school and work. There was a moment when Nick excused himself to take a private phone call on his cell phone, and Rita gave him a look that Hank knew meant trouble, but he was not invested enough in his brother's personal life to really care why Nick was taking phone calls that made Rita get that look on her face. It was probably something the couple had fought about before and Hank did not want to insert his nose where it didn't belong. 

All he wanted now was to eat the stupid dessert and to go home and let Tommy take care of him. Thinking about that boy who'd been shot had lowered his mood considerably, and it was hard to get back to feeling normal and being a part of the family when he was thinking about blood and dying boys and things that made his heart heavy. 

The conversation slowed as the meal finished, and soon Jen and Evan were excusing themselves. "We promised Evan's parents we'd stop by their place before we headed home. Thanks for the meal, Rita," said Jen. There was a round of hugs and then they were gone.

Glancing over at Tommy, Hank saw that his brother was just as relieved as he was that Jen was gone. That was one less conversation they'd have to worry about for today, though he had no doubt she'd probably want to talk about it later. He'd wait for her text sometime tonight or tomorrow. 

Nick was still on his phone call when Rita got up to clear the dinner plates, so Hank got up to help her, despite not wanting to let go of Tommy's hand just yet. He wanted to do his part, and he hated to see Rita having to do all the work while her husband did whatever in the other room. He knew that Tommy sure as hell wasn't going to help. 

"Can I get another beer?" said Tommy, and then belched.

Next to him, Tristan giggled. "Ew, that's gross! Do it again!" 

"Don't encourage him," said Rita, rolling her eyes. "Uncle Tommy, say excuse me." 

Tommy just burped again, grinning at his ridiculous sense of humor.

"Excuse you!" exclaimed Tristan, but he was still trying not to laugh, stuffing his hand in his mouth to cover up the snorting noise. 

Nudging Hank, Rita said into his ear in a low voice, "Sometimes it's hard to believe Tommy's older than me. It's weird to see him get along so well with Tristan, though." 

Hank nodded as he watched the two interact – Uncle Tommy burping louder just to get Tristan to giggle, and then Tristan trying to copy him without much success. 

On his return trip back to the table to pick up some more plates, Hank ruffled Tristan's hair, grinning when the boy rolled his eyes.

"Uncle Hank, don't be such a nerd," said Tristan. "I think Uncle Tommy is my favorite now anyway. You're not as cool as he is." Then he leaned in conspiratorially and cupped his hands around to whisper something in Tommy's ear.

It was ridiculous how much Hank wanted to know what was being said, but he respected Tristan's privacy and instead continued clearing the table with Rita. Maybe Tommy would tell him later if he bugged him about it once they got home. Somehow, though, Hank had a feeling that they wouldn't be doing much talking when the two of them finally did get home. 

Rita nudged him again. "Are you all right, Hank? I didn't mean to upset you earlier, when I brought up that boy." She frowned. "Is everything okay at work otherwise? Is everything all right with you and Tommy at the house? It must be so hard living with him." The pity she directed at him was almost too much for Hank to bear. 

"Everything's fine," he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I don't have any control over Tommy. All I can do is make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble on the streets. Being a cop comes in handy sometimes," he said with a wry smile. He didn't really want to get into it too much with Rita, too afraid he'd reveal something about what he had with Tommy that his sister-in-law really did not need to know. 

She bit her lip but was still watching him. "If you ever need anything, Hank – I mean, if he gets into trouble and you can't help him out, you know that Nick and I are always available to help. You aren't the only one responsible for Tommy. I hope you realize that." 

It was all Hank could do not to roll his eyes. "Really, Rita? Have you talked to your husband about that decision?" He snorted. "Nick hates Tommy and we both know it. If Tommy was on fire, Nick wouldn't even piss on him to put it out." And it might not have been Rita's fault, but Hank was angry with her for acting as though their family were completely normal. How could she just ignore the years of rivalry between the two brothers? 

"I don't believe that. Nick cares about all of you. With your parents gone –"

Hank shook his head. "No. He's always lorded that over my head, that he took care of me after Dad and Mom were gone. That doesn't mean that he's my parent, and that doesn't mean that he controls my life or Tommy's life." He was finding it hard to control his breathing. He never got angry like this, and certainly not at Rita, but apparently when it came to defending Tommy, he couldn't control himself.

Even Rita seemed to be taken aback at his attitude. "You seem to forget who has been helping you make your car payments, Hank. I don't think you have the right to be speaking to me that way, and you certainly don't have the right to act as though Nick isn't a part of your life when he's been helping you out financially for a very long time." Her tone was clipped and her expression icy. 

"Hank? Something wrong?" asked Tommy, his chair scraping back from the table as he stood up. He was a bit unsteady on his feet but he looked about ready to jump in the middle and defend Hank's honor like some kind of white knight. 

Before he could say anything else, Nick returned to the room and appeared to sense the tension right off. Of course, he looked right to Tommy. "What's going on here?" 

"I think we should leave," said Hank evenly, glancing over at Tommy. "I don't want to cause any trouble here." It was a bit funny to him that he'd been so worried about Tommy causing trouble tonight that he never thought he and Rita would be the two to start something. 

"I'm sick of all this stuff that we do for you two and you _still_ screw up!" snapped Rita. "Nick practically _raised_ you, and he gives you money when you need it and he helps you get by, and you're acting like that isn't worth anything to you! How ungrateful can you be?" 

Nick put his hand on her shoulder and looked over at his brothers. It was easy to tell where he stood in all of this; he didn't even have to say anything and Hank knew there was no way this discussion would end well. 

"We're leaving," said Hank, because he didn't want to have to defend himself to both of them. "I'm sorry for anything I said that was upsetting." His heart was pounding in his chest but he tried to keep his calm, afraid that if he said anything else he might have trouble keeping his temper under control. 

Tommy followed him to the door, but Rita and Nick both stayed put. Hank figured that was for the best; he didn't want them following him out and continuing to shout at him about everything they had done for him, all the 'help' they had given him over the years. Goddammit, he was a grown adult man and he didn't need his big brother playing Daddy. 

"Uncle Hank!" Tristan's arms wrapped around his legs, stopping Hank in his tracks. "Don't fight with Mommy, please. Aren't you gonna come watch football with us?"

Peeling Tristan off, Hank bent down to his nephew's level. "Hey, buddy, I'd love to watch the game with you, but we'll have to do it another time, okay? Mommy and Daddy and I need some space right now. Uncle Tommy and I are going to go home." 

Tristan nodded, but he didn't seem to really understand. He was nine years old, but he wasn't old enough to understand the complexities of relationships between adults, not like this. "Okay."

"Listen, buddy, maybe I can take you out to lunch in a couple weeks. How's that sound? We can go out and see a movie and go to one of your favorite places for lunch. You like that idea?" He didn't want an argument with Nick and Rita to ruin his relationship with his only nephew.

Nodding excitedly, Tristan said, "Yeah! That sounds really awesome, Uncle Hank! I want to go to Olive Garden, please." 

"Sure thing, buddy. We'll go to Olive Garden," Hank promised. "But for now, Uncle Tommy and I gotta go. Give me a hug." He held his arms out and Tristan tucked into his chest, arms wrapped around Hank's neck for a tight hug before he pulled back.

After the hug, Hank stood back up and Tristan ran back into the living room with his parents. Hank followed Tommy out to the driveway and they got into the car. The sun was starting to set, slowly, though it wasn't that late. Hank hated this time of day, hated the sun in his eyes, hated the eerie colors of the sky and hated the fucking traffic. Right now, though, he felt like just about anything would make him angry, after that conversation with Rita. 

"You really get along well with Tristan, don't you?" said Tommy. He was standing by the passenger door of the car with his hand on the door handle as he looked at Hank kind of funny. Before Hank could really answer that, Tommy said, "Do you want kids of your own?"

The question was a bit startling, but Hank answered easily enough. "I kind of hoped that one day I could be a dad." It had never really been a huge thought on his mind, but in the back of his head, Hank had always had the idea that he would be teaching his son or daughter to bake or play football or drive a car. He'd never really thought about where the kid would come from, though. Adoption, maybe. 

He unlocked the car doors and they both got inside. Tommy was kind of subdued as he sat in the passenger seat, but Hank figured he was just tired. He had been drinking for most of the afternoon, and eventually that was going to catch up to him.

It was only after Hank had backed the car into the road and started off toward home that Tommy spoke up again.

"I think you'd be a good father, Hank." His tone was even, his voice low and hard to read. 

Hank kept his eyes on the road, but what the hell was he supposed to say to that? "Maybe," he answered noncommittally. Being a cop made it hard for him to think about being a parent, really. When his hours were all over the place and he had three or four late nights in a row, how could he think about caring for a baby or a toddler or even a kid Tristan's age? How could he provide a proper home? 

"Too bad we missed out on that pie, though. We should've taken it with us." 

This time, Hank glanced over to Tommy in the passenger seat for a moment and found himself distracted by the sight of his brother stretched out contentedly, almost like a cat. Hank wanted to rub his belly and hear him purr. He blushed at the thought.

Winking at him, Tommy said, "You gonna give me some dessert at home, little brother?" 

Hank's body went hot and all he could think about was that blow job Tommy had offered him earlier. He thought about getting down on his knees in the front hall and sucking Tommy's cock until his brother moaned out loud. God, he wanted that more than anything else right now. It would really be the only worthwhile ending to this shitty day.

"We'll get home a lot faster if you let me drive without any distractions," said Hank, doing his best to keep his voice as calm as possible. Now that Tommy had gotten him worked up, Hank was having trouble keeping his hands steady on the steering wheel and focusing on the road in front of him.

Snow was starting to fall lightly from the sky – not enough to be unsafe, but enough to make it really look like November. Hank was extremely thankful that there weren't a lot of cars on the road. Everybody else was probably at home suffering through their Thanksgiving dinners with families, or watching the game on TV or otherwise not bothering to be out. It made it easier to drive on the somewhat slippery roads when he didn't have other drivers to worry about. 

By the time they got to the house, the snow had started to pick up a little more, making the driveway a bit slick. Hank would probably have to shovel in the morning, but he didn't care about that right now. Parking the car was easy enough, but Hank hadn't been wearing his boots and found that stepping on the slippery snow in the driveway was not as easy as it might have seemed. 

He walked over to the passenger side because he knew that Tommy was going to have trouble walking in this stuff, especially when he still wasn't steady from all the beer he'd had earlier. 

"Jesus, it's a bit greasy out here, ain't it?" said Tommy, grinning. "Don't know as I'll make it into the house, little brother."

"Just grab my hand," said Hank. "It's not that far up to the steps." Maybe the ground was a lot slipperier than he'd initial thought, judging by the way Tommy was having trouble staying on his feet. Still, it wasn't like they had a really long driveway. 

No sooner had Tommy taken Hank's hand, than the bigger man lost his footing and fell backward onto his butt, dragging Hank with him.

Hank landed awkwardly half on top of him, his knees sunk into the snow near Tommy's legs. It was cold out, and the snow was soaking into his clothes but Tommy was underneath him and he could feel Tommy's hard on through his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to strip his brother out of those stupid fucking clothes and ride his cock until they were both sore. 

"Let's go inside," Hank said. "God, Tommy, not in the fucking driveway." He pushed himself up and when he found his footing, reached to help Tommy up as well. For a moment, he thought his brother might pull him back down into the snow, but he didn't. 

They made it into the house rather somberly and when the door clicked shut behind them, Hank spent a moment shaking the snow out of his hair and off his clothes. 

Tommy was watching him wordlessly. Snowflakes were melting in his hair but he didn't seem to notice or care. He was not aware of the way he looked to Hank, which was like some kind of big gruff snow angel, come down to earth just to raise hell.

"Don't," said Hank. "Please don't look at me like that, Jesus." Lust was one thing, and Hank had gotten used to Tommy looking at him like he wanted to devour him alive. But whenever Tommy got overly drunk, he would get that expression on his face that said all he really wanted was to lay Hank down and make love to him like they were married or some shit. It was painful.

"All right, then. Take your fucking clothes off and I'll fuck you instead," suggested Tommy evenly. His expression had changed so subtly that Hank hadn't realized it happening, but suddenly he felt like an antelope caught in a lion's line of sight. 

The idea came to him suddenly, and Hank couldn't help smirking. "Can't fuck me if you can't catch me," he said, and darted into the kitchen.

Thankfully, Tommy seemed to be in the same playful mood because he chased after Hank, following him around the kitchen table and into the living room. Their heavy footfalls were rattling the entire house but it didn't matter to Hank, not with the adrenaline running through his body and the thrill he got from it.

They went back and forth around the couch a couple times, but Tommy finally caught Hank and pushed him to the ground before climbing on top to straddle him, pressing Hank's wrists into the living room carpet. His weight was heavy on top of Hank, but not at all uncomfortable.

"You are a fucking tease, aren't you?" growled Tommy, but he was grinning as he panted. "I should spank you for being so naughty." 

Hank wiggled his hips. "I'd like to see you try." He was already starting to get hard, but the thought of Tommy spanking him was something that Hank had never been aware he would want and he was incredibly turned on by the idea. 

"Don't tempt me," said Tommy. The teasing tone had all but left his voice and now his eyes were searching Hank's, clearly looking for permission. Tommy's hard-on was obvious, but he was waiting to see that Hank was okay with this new addition to their play and that was what really got Hank going. That Tommy cared enough to check first made Hank's chest ache. 

It wasn't the time for sentimentality, though, not when his cock was so hard. "Can't spank me if you're on top of me," Hank pointed out, grinning. "And you promised to fuck me but all my clothes are still on. I'm very disappointed." He pouted.

Letting out a low growl, Tommy got up, giving both of them enough time to strip out of their clothes and shoes. He was rough with Hank, grabbing his hips and pulling Hank onto his knees, manipulating him bodily until he had Hank where he wanted him. 

"Look at that fucking ass," Tommy said. He ran his hand down Hank's back and over the curve of his ass, the touch of his fingertips gentle. Then came the smack, Tommy's hand flat on his ass cheek. It was the surprise more than anything that had Hank jolt forward, but the sting that came afterward was the real pleasure. The feeling traveled all the way up his spine. "Like that, hmm?" 

"Barely felt a thing," said Hank. God, since when did he get so turned on by Tommy being rough? He wanted harder spanks, painful ones, and then he wanted Tommy to fuck him until his whole body was sore, and he wanted to carry him to bed and fuck him again. 

Tommy's left hand was digging into Hank's hip to hold him in place when the next smack came, but that didn't stop Hank from jerking forward again. Because of the carpet, he didn't move much anyway, though he could feel a rug burn starting on his hands and his knees. 

The groan that came out of Hank's mouth seemed to be enough to spur Tommy into taking it further. He let loose with the spanking, hard enough to make Hank yelp and push back against him. He seemed to know the exact pressure to get the right noises out of Hank, making it hurt with a pleasurable kind of pain that only Tommy could really deliver.

What was the most surprising for Hank was that after he was done with the spanking, Tommy gave Hank a moment to relax. He rubbed the parts of Hank's ass that had been hit and pressed kisses to the base of Hank's spine. "How was that?" he asked, his voice low and steady despite what had just happened. "You all right to keep going?" 

Hank swallowed and took a couple deep breaths. He was slightly embarrassed at his leaking cock, at how hard he was even after what they'd just done. "I'm good," he said. "Holy shit, though."

Behind him, Tommy chuckled. He was bent over Hank know, and his voice was nearly in Hank's ear as his chest pressed against Hank's back. "If I'd known you were up for that sorta shit, I would've brought it up earlier. We'll have to play around some more, huh?" 

"Maybe later, but right now I was kind of looking forward to having your cock in my ass. Maybe we could get on that, huh?" Hank realized that mimicking Tommy's tone wasn't exactly the greatest idea, but he was feeling playful. He wiggled his ass again.

"Hmm, baby brother's getting demanding," teased Tommy. "Maybe I won't fuck you after all." 

Then Hank was suddenly aware that Tommy was no longer touching him. A moment later he realized Tommy was in front of him, still nude. That hard cock was staring him in the face, and Hank got to his knees, licking his lips at the thought of having that in his mouth. 

"Not so fast, baby," said Tommy, reaching out a hand. "C'mon. All the stuff's in the bedroom. Besides, I'm not carrying your ass to bed after we're done, and I know your knees won't be too happy being on that rug for long. And I plan on spending a long time fucking you." 

As he got to his feet, Hank found that something was curling in his stomach. God, why were his feelings about Tommy so fucking complicated? He brushed off his knees and tried to find the words to explain what he wanted to say. The playful feeling from earlier was gone and all he wanted now was to curl up in bed with Tommy for the rest of the night. 

"Tommy –"

His brother put his fingers on Hank's lips. "This is playtime. Don't make everything so serious." 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Hank tried like hell to ignore the stupid feelings building up in his chest that he couldn't explain. Tommy didn't want to talk about this shit right now, so Hank would do his best not to bring it up, but fuck was it hard.

They went to Tommy's bedroom, and his brother pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him again. The heavy feeling of Tommy's weight on top of him reminded Hank what this was really about – two bodies getting pleasure from each other. 

There didn't have to be any feelings involved. Feelings didn't fucking matter.

*

It was part of his police officer training to wake up whenever his cell phone rang, but sometimes Hank really fucking hated that stupid thing. As he scrubbed his eyes, he spotted the digital clock that told him it was only two am.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, groping for the phone.

Next to him, Tommy barely stirred. 

"Howard," he said into the phone, sliding out of bed. He didn't want to disrupt Tommy's sleep, since he knew his brother had to work later and would need more sleep. 

"Hank, it's Jen." 

_Oh, for –_

"Jen, you got any fucking idea what time it is?" hissed Hank into the phone as he shut the bedroom door behind him. 

"Sorry! I know it's late, but Evan and I just got home from his parents. I meant to call you earlier, but things got kind of busy over there, and I just got distracted. I just, um, I wanted to talk to you about Tommy." 

"Tommy?" It was hard for Hank to act like he had no idea what she meant, especially as his mind provided him with a pretty clear image of exactly what she'd seen. She was no doubt picturing the exact same thing in her head at this very moment. The thought made Hank feel sick.

"Is he –" She huffed. "I know you two have always kind of had a weird relationship. But he's not, uh, coercing you into anything, is he?" 

Hank almost laughed. "What do you think he's coercing me into?"

There was a long silence on her end, and then, in a quiet voice. "Sex? Is he – I mean is he making you do things you don't want to do? You can tell me if you're having issues. I can get Nick to talk to him about it. He shouldn't be allowed to do those things to you." 

"I don't know how much of an answer you want here, Jen, but Tommy's not doing anything to me that I don't consent to, okay?" He let out a breath, wondering if what he'd said was vague enough to give her the answer she wanted but not enough to make her ask more questions. "But please don't get Nick involved in this. We had a big blow out after you left and I don't really think it's wise to give him something else to shit on us about." He ran his hand through his hair, trying and failing to hold back a yawn as well. He really needed some sleep.

"I'm sorry, Hank. I shouldn't have butted in. It's none of my business. You and Tommy are adults and I'm sure you can handle yourselves that way," Jen said cautiously. "I just – I worry about you sometimes, okay? If you ever do want to talk, let me know."

"Yeah, okay. Look, Jen, I've got the day off tomorrow – well, I guess today. Anyway, I really need the sleep. So I'm hanging up now." He didn't wait for anything else from his sister before he ended the call with a huff and another yawn.

He went back into the bedroom, dropping his phone on the side table before climbing under the covers again and closing his eyes. 

He'd been trying not to disturb Tommy, but it hadn't worked; his brother spooned up behind him, arms around his chest and his head by Hank's ear. "Guess that wasn't work on the phone, huh?"

"No, it was just Jen being nosy."

Tommy perked up at that. "Oh?"

"Yeah. But I told her to mind her own." 

"Good." Then, "While you're up, you wanna go another round?" Though Hank couldn't see him, he could feel the grin on Tommy's face. And he sure as hell could feel Tommy's erection pressing against his ass, too. That was enough to get Hank back in action again.

Even as he let Tommy spread him out and open him up again, Hank couldn't help hearing Jen's thoughts in the back of his head. He knew he wasn't being coerced, but the doubt was there now, and he didn't know that he could push it away all that easily.


End file.
